


A Secret Agent's Downfall

by katsudonnnnnnnnnn



Category: Cars (Pixar Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Espionage, Hope it's ok, How Do I Tag, Human AU, Interrogation, It gets pretty gross, Macabre, Organized Crime, Other, Psychological Horror, This was actually my first attempt at writing gore/horror stuff!, Torture, i actually don't remember if grem and acer are boyfriends here or not lol, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:21:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24919753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katsudonnnnnnnnnn/pseuds/katsudonnnnnnnnnn
Summary: Finn McMissile gets intercepted and captured by the lemons. What will they do to him? What will his last moments alive look like?Cars is owned by Pixar, I didn't design these characters, though I did come up with my own interpretations on what they look like as humans.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	A Secret Agent's Downfall

Finn McMissile’s chest squeezed in on itself with fear, and his throat burned as his screams of terror became muffled and absorbed by the tape on his mouth. He wriggled against the bungee cords and duct tape that bound his body as he was dragged up the rickety metal staircase of the main platform at the Axlerod Oil drilling site.  
Eyes bulging with fear, the British man cried out for help and thrashed like a hooked fish to get away from the two men dragging him up the stairs.  
Despite the fact that they had looked like unsuspecting college students, and very weak ones at that, they had managed to overcome the CHROME agent and hustle him into the back of a rusted old orange Gremlin. As the punkish one with wild orange hair sped off through traffic, challenging Finn’s notions about just how fast one of these things could go, the green-haired slightly effeminate looking one pinned him down and restrained him. Any time Finn tried to throw his lighter body off of him, he would strike him in the nose or mouth with the heel of his hand. Finn, who had a roughly 80 pounds and 1 foot advantage over them both, had no idea how such weak- and frankly, to Finn at least, rather ugly- young men were able to attack and subdue him so.  
Now his journey had ended after a long and very scary car ride followed by an equally unsettling boat ride, and his captors brought him to his destination, for… Finn had no idea what they were going to do to him, but given that this was Sir Miles Axlerod’s oil reserve and those two young men were, no doubt, his underlings, it couldn’t be good. 

The doors slid open, and Grem and Acer were greeted by praise and sadistic laughter from their compatriots.  
“I told you we got ‘im!” Grem triumphantly announced. “And you thought we’s pulling your leg!”  
Acer chuckled, his grip on Finn tightening. “What should we do with him, boss?”  
Miles stepped forward, an air of elegance and calculating coldness surrounding him as he eyed his lieutenants’ precious cargo. “You’ve really outdone yourselves tonight. This… this is what all of our efforts have led up to thus far, gentlemen! Tonight will see the demise of Finn McMissile and the utter downfall of CHROME! And you, Agent McMissile, I can see the fear in your eyes. You have no idea what we’re going to do to you, but you know enough to be dreading it. You’ve always been so bloody smart, but you see… all of your brains and gadgets won’t be helping you at all now. Not where we’ve got you.” He threw his head back and laughed.  
Professor Zundapp- who almost looked like a child next to the lithe, tall Axlerod with his short and stout stature- almost couldn’t contain his giddiness. He rubbed his hands together and shook with anticipation. “I know the perfect thing to do to him once we get the tape off! Heheheh, we could throw him into a tank filled with dioxin! No, better yet, we could pour heated mercury down his throat! No, I know what we’re going to do! First thing we’ll need is some plutonium, the more unstable the better, and then I’m going to take a needle and-“  
“I say we take all these weapons that I confiscated from him, and test them out on him!” Acer laughed, holding up a futuristic-looking ray gun.  
“We could put him in an oil barrel and throw him into the ocean!” Grem said, shoving Finn towards Acer.  
“All of you, stop this!” Axlerod ordered. “We can’t just use any plain method of killing him. This is special! This is the one and only Finn McMissile we’ve captured. This is beyond special! We have to do something big with him, something extravagant. Not just some one-note punishment. Hmm… Acer, Grem, you go lock him up and we can figure out what we’re going to do with… our guest of dishonor.” He cupped Finn’s chin in his hand. Finn felt like Miles was staring directly into his soul with that smug superiority blazing within his eyes.  
Axlerod clapped his hands and turned around. “Ivan! Get the cage! We’re going to have a discussion once we get McMissile settled in.”  
Ivan brought a large dog cage from the storeroom and set it against one wall. Finn was thrown into it, still bound and restrained, and the door locked.  
“I don’t want you to think that we don’t want you to join our planning, gentlemen,” Axlerod told Grem and Acer. “But we do need to make sure that McMissile doesn’t get it into his head that he can escape. I do hope you understand.”  
“We’d be honored to stay here with him,” Acer said.  
“Yeah, we make great company!” Grem snarled at Finn, grinning. He lit a cigarette as the leaders went into the other room and sat down to have their discussion.  
Acer inched away from the cage, trying to hear their conversation.  
“I can’t tell what they’re talking about in there,” he said.  
“Come on, these are some of the bigwigs here! They know what they’re doing. I don’t know what they’re gonna do, but I’ll tells ya one thing: Finn ain’t gonna like it!” He flicked some ashes into Finn’s face, making him squirm and snort.  
Acer laughed at the noise he made. “Shhnrrff!” he mocked.  
Finn struggled against his restraints, and Grem pulled his cigarette out of his mouth and burned Finn’s cheek through the bars with it. The British man winced away from it, now sporting a blister where the cigarette had touched him.  
“If you don’t want any more of that, you ain’t gonna move a muscle!” Grem said.  
It soon turned out that Grem meant that literally- he kept a watchful eye on the CHROME agent, looking for any excuse to burn him for moving. Once, Grem wasn’t even sure if Finn had actually moved or it was just a shadow from something else, but he didn’t care- burning Finn and making him whine was just too much fun!  
Acer, who didn’t smoke, wished there was something he could do to Finn while he was standing there, awkwardly trying to find a position where he could hear the leaders’ conversation but still be able to keep an eye on their hostage. He had considered poking him with a sharp object but there was nothing he could use nearby. Out of options, he just resorted to kicking the cage, which made a very sharp rattling noise. It was actually probably more irritating to himself and Grem than it was to Finn, but it was really all he could think of to do.  
Much later the leaders of the lemons finally emerged, right about the time Grem had finished his cigarette and Acer had gotten tired of kicking the cage.  
Professor Z looked like a child on Christmas morning, almost shaking with anticipation.  
“You truly are a clever man,” he said to Axlerod. “It’s the perfect plan!”  
Axlerod brushed the compliment off. “Well, it wasn’t really me, I just sort of took all your ideas and worked them in together. It’s all of you who are clever, really. Ahem. Grem, Acer? Could you come here a minute? We’ve reached an agreement.”  
They both approached him, and Axlerod whispered the plan to them. He didn’t want Finn overhearing it- it would be even better for him to have no idea what he was about to endure!  
Acer gasped. “Whoa! I mean, we’ve done one or two of those things, but all of those?? And putting… damn, I don’t think we’ve ever done anything like that before!”  
Grem laughed evilly, clenching his fists. “This is going to be our best one yet! Hahahaha! I’m going to relish every moment of this!! His screams are going to be music to my ears!”  
Finn curled himself up more, trying not to rub his blisters on anything. His stomach felt sour, and he mentally begged for a way out of this situation- that Siddeley would bring Holley and the others to come rescue him by jet, that Axlerod would suddenly have a heart attack, that the ceiling above the lemons would cave in and crush them all to death, something!  
As they all approached him, he knew that his luck was running out and that the chances of a way out were growing slimmer with each second that passed by.  
“Acer, Grem, you get him out of the cage. We’ll go set up in the torture room,” Axlerod said, leading the others up a flight of stairs.  
Acer and Grem high fived each other before opening Finn’s cage. Finn felt as though he might die of fright before they even started killing him. He didn’t know what the “torture room” was, but it didn’t sound good, not even in the slightest.  
They both picked Finn up, Acer holding his wrists and Grem holding his ankles, and began walking up the stairs, Grem pulling him backwards up the steps.  
On the second step, Finn’s head bumped against one of the metal steps, causing him to groan.  
“Oops,” Grem said with a sneer. Acer giggled.  
Every step after that they bumped Finn’s head, the entire way up.  
When they got to the top, Acer and Grem looked at each other, smiled wickedly and threw him down the whole flight of stairs, laughing as he fell down the steps.  
“We’re so sorry! It was an accident!” Acer shouted down to him.  
“My hands got slippery! I’m such a klutz!” Grem laughed.  
They continued laughing as they went down to get Finn.  
Professor Z stuck his head out of the door to the torture room. “Stop fooling around! Ach, we’re nearly ready! Just get Finn up here!”  
The two goons picked up Finn again and brought him up the steps, bumping his head on all the stairs again. By the time they made it to the top with him, Finn had a large knot on the back of his head, and lots of scrapes and red marks covering his body.  
The door at the end of the hall finally opened, and Victor stood in the doorway.  
“It’s time now, gentlemen,” he said. “And someone will be meeting his maker tonight.”  
Acer and Grem picked Finn up and followed Victor with him. The torture room was actually up yet another flight of stairs just inside the door, which Acer and Grem took as an opportunity to hit Finn’s head some more. At the top of the stairs were three different doors- the middle one having a narrow window near the top, and the frame being made of bolted metal and bearing a large handle.  
Victor pulled the door open, and Finn was brought into the torture room, in all its bloody glory.  
Torture devices and other implements of agony lined the room. Almost any torture method imaginable was in here- even some medieval devices recreated to the best of the lemons’ abilities. These included a folding futon with screws hot-glued all over it to make a sort of iron maiden; modified vises for leg and arm screws; pipes with large clumps of barbed wire soldered onto the ends to use for maces and an oil barrel with holes cut out of the bottom to make a pillory. They didn’t just have jerry-rigged torture devices, they also had some legitimate weapons- cattle prods, whips, brass knuckles, a waterboarding setup and more were ready for use.  
“Bring him over here,” Axlerod ordered, standing by a wall adorned with metal shackles.  
“Should we put him up there?” Acer asked.  
“Yes, but I’d really like if Ivan could come help us too… in case your hands slip again,” Axlerod said.  
Grem’s eyes went wide with surprise as the large, bearded Russian man approached, ready to pounce on Finn should he try to escape.  
Luckily for them though, the three of them had managed to restrain Finn substantially enough to where he didn’t escape while the ropes and tape were being removed, then substituted out for shackles on the wall, fastening him by his wrists, neck, and ankles.  
Once Finn had been securely fastened to the wall amid all of his squirming and fighting, Ivan ripped the duct tape off of his mouth with one swift motion.  
Finn gasped and coughed, spitting out blood that came from falling down the stairs earlier.  
“Okay, now what do you wankers want??” he growled, trying to ignore his heart rapidly pounding and the pain from his blisters and forming bruises.  
The others moved aside as Axlerod approached Finn, studying him up and down.  
“So, McMissile, you thought we’d never catch you? Well, look where you’ve ended up now,” he said.  
“Why am I here??” Finn raged, leaning forward off the wall as much as his restraints would let him.  
“We’ll be asking the questions now, thank you very much,” Axlerod said, handing Ivan a large pipe wrench.  
“Why don’t we start with something simple… what were you doing sneaking around in known Lemon territory in the middle of the night?” Axlerod asked.  
“It’s none of your bloody business! I’m not going to say a word!” Finn spat.  
Axlerod looked up at Ivan, snapped his fingers and pointed at Finn.  
Ivan struck Finn with the pipe wrench across his face. It knocked one of his teeth out, and the side of his face tingled with pain as blood started dribbling from his mouth and a big purplish welt began forming where the wrench had hit.  
“Fuck!” Finn gasped.  
“Maybe I wasn’t clear the first time, McMissile. You’re going to tell us exactly what you and all your little CHROME agents were planning, the entire thing. Ivan can swing that wrench for a lot longer than you think,” Axlerod said.  
“Never!” Finn cried out. “You can’t extract that information from me!”  
Without even waiting for Axlerod’s signal, Ivan hit Finn with the wrench again, knocking another tooth out and forming another welt.  
“It doesn’t matter whether you voluntarily give up that information or not- we’re going to find out your plans one way or another, and we’ll get Ms. Shiftwell, Siddeley and whoever else is in cahoots with you! But if you tell us where they are and what they were going to do… we might go easy on them, give them a quick death,” Axlerod purred. “The choice is yours, McMissile. You could be selfish and make your friends suffer exactly as you’re about to, or show them some mercy through us.”  
“There’s no way you’d ever find them! You’re far too stupid to find any of the CHROME agents!” Finn cried. “Hit me with your wrench again, go ahead! You could drive it into my frontal lobe and I still won’t tell you! I’d rather die than let Holley and everyone else die, and let you filthy lemons have all the glory and power!”  
Ivan swung the wrench into Finn again- it didn’t knock any more teeth out but made a terrible gash on the side of his head, and caused his ears to ring from the impact, feeling intense pressure in his head.  
“It’s not a matter of sacrificing yourself to save Holley. We’re still going to kill you, and them anyway. You think we won’t find them? If we can find you, what’s to say that we won’t find the others? They weren’t the so-called ‘leader’. They’re probably losing their minds right now, looking for you and blowing their covers a million times over in a million different ways!” Axlerod said. “But as you wish, you don’t have to tell us that… It’s time, gentlemen.”  
The other lemons roared and cheered in excitement, and Ivan threw the wrench down, turning his attention back towards Finn. He ripped his clothes off of him in shreds, the lemons’ excited chatter and whooping drowning out Finn’s protests and screams.  
By the time Ivan stepped away, Finn was left naked on the wall.  
“I do hope you enjoy how much thought we put into this, McMissile. Just think about how awful it’s going to be for Holley, Siddeley and your other compatriots to go through this,” Axlerod said, backing away.  
Professor Zundapp ran up first, holding a beaker containing a sickly greenish-yellowish liquid. “I’m going to deal the first damage!” he laughed, and removed the rubber stopper. He reared back and poured the chemical all over Finn’s genitalia. The highly corrosive acid had started working immediately, eating its way through his penis and the surrounding area. What dripped off fell onto the concrete floor and left a vile stain and chemical burn. Tears welled up in the British man’s eyes and he shrieked, attempting to kick his legs and get away from the acid. All this did was just make the acid drip more, speeding up his chemical castration. By the time the acid had finished working, all that was left was a highly inflamed, blistered area, razed completely flat by the corrosion. Finn seethed and cried out with agony.  
“Ok, I can tell you where they are!!” he sobbed. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know! Holley works in communications! She’s at-“  
“It’s too late for that now, McMissile! You should have thought of that when Ivan was beating you with the pipe wrench. You thought having your manhood dissolved away was painful? We’re just getting started!” Axlerod said. He gestured to the side wall, where Vladimir had been holding two sets of needle-nose pliers in the flame of a Bunsen burner. Vladimir turned to Finn and flashed a wicked smile, holding up both orange-hot pliers. He stormed over to stand in front of Finn and squeezed the coated handles, opening them up, before clamping the still-glowing pliers onto both of Finn’s nipples with a sizzling sound. Finn screamed with pain, panting and writhing about.  
“Please!! Oh, god!! Make it stop, make it stop!!!!” Finn cried out. Vladmir had begun twisting the pliers and pulling outward, turning Finn’s words into incoherent, anguished screams. Vladimir at long last pulled the pliers all the way out, the nubs of singed flesh ripped from Finn’s skin and ugly, burned wounds left where the nipples had been.  
Finn struggled to catch his breath, his pain so bad that he almost couldn’t stop screaming long enough to breathe.  
Vladimir turned to the other lemons, holding up the pliers with what remained of Finn’s nipples still clasped in the dull-red heads, releasing them and letting the burnt flesh fall to the ground.  
Vladimir returned to where Finn hung on the wall, where he gasped out ragged breaths one after another.  
“Mm, don’t you just love a good cookout?” Vladimir teased.  
In response, Finn mustered all his strength and spit on Vladimir, a mixture of blood and saliva landing on his neck.  
Vladimir growled something in Russian, now furious, and made a move to drive the pliers into the open wounds in his chest, but a voice cried out from the crowd.  
“Hey! It’s my turn! Don’t hog him!”  
“Fine, go ahead, Tubbs,” Vladimir muttered, and after kicking Finn in the former location of his balls- eliciting a drawn-out howl from him- stormed away.  
Tubbs stepped forward out of the crowd, a blowtorch clasped in his hand adorned with far too many watches and rings.  
He put the goggles that had been on his forehead down over his eyes, and clicked the blowtorch on with a loud whoosh, and flames shot up from the end, and aimed the flames directly at Finn’s face.  
Finn cried out and screamed as the smell of burning hair filled the room. Once Tubbs turned off the blowtorch and lowered it, Finn’s mustache and eyebrows had been completely burnt off, leaving him with even more prominent welts and blisters all over his face, and the first signs of scorching beginning to show on his skin.  
J. Curby didn’t even wait for Tubbs to walk away before running up to Finn, wielding two pairs of brass knuckles. He drove in one punch after the other, into his chest and shoulders. “I-I-I can’t t-take it… p-p-p-please…” Finn sobbed as J. Curby’s punches made his head bob left and right. With each slam of the brass knuckles, his skin was worn thin, and large welts dotted his collarbone area- welts that J. Curby soon busted open with a few more blows, splattering blood onto his face and shirt. By this point, when blood trickled from Finn’s chest and shoulders, J. Curby panted and tried to catch his breath. He had worn himself out and his arms became fatigued from all the rapid-fire punches.  
Victor strolled forward, patting J. Curby’s shoulder. “You did great,” he said. “Lots of blood, it looks wonderful.”  
Finn whimpered and moaned with pain as Victor drew closer to him, looking down at him with an unreadable smirk. He clasped Finn’s right hand in between his, rubbing his hand tenderly, and then locked his eyes onto Finn’s while chuckling. He yanked violently at Finn’s index finger until it let out a crack, and the British man squealed in agony.  
“No!!!” he cried out. “No, God!!!” The tears streaming down his face made his scrapes and blisters sting even more, adding to his agony.  
Victor bent each of Finn’s fingers backwards and snapped them out of their joints, ignoring his agonized cries. Victor had mangled Finn’s fingers completely, rendering them barely recognizable as hands.  
But Victor didn’t leave yet. He produced two spiked vises from his jacket pocket, which he instantly slapped onto Finn’s wrists and started tightening, drawing more screams up from the agent.  
As Victor slowly tightened each vise, he began to get a bit of a hard-on from the thrill of inflicting pain and making Finn bleed and yell.  
The blood gushed down over the mangled flesh that had been Finn’s hand, as the spikes cut further and further through the muscles and tendons. Finally, the vises were tightened one last time and with a splintering and crunch, his hands were sheared off and fell to the floor, splinters of bone falling down with the hands and vises. Blood gushed from the open wrists like a garden hose from hell. Finn grew hoarse from screaming, raspy shouting and ragged gasps replacing the drawn-out howls he had been letting out.  
“Oh, you’re so loud, why can’t you just shut up?” Victor mocked him, wiping at his tears with his blood-soaked thumb.  
“Just kill me already…. P-please…” Finn wheezed. “Stop f-f-fooling around. I c-ca-can’t take th-this… make it st-stop….”  
“How adorable, how sweet and naïve you are, McMissile,” Victor cooed, tracing down his jaw.  
He squeezed on Finn’s jaw, forcing his mouth open, and Victor pressed his face into Finn’s, shoving his tongue harshly into Finn’s open mouth. The hot feeling of the blood making contact with Victor’s face aroused him greatly as he continued to slurp and lick at Finn’s mouth.  
Suddenly he pulled a box cutter out of his pocket, flicked it up and held it to Finn’s head. He flicked his tongue against Finn’s lips as he turned it to his ear and started slicing downwards, severing the flesh and cartilage. Victor held tight against his lips, putting his other hand against the back of his head to hold him in place.  
Finn tried to scream, but with Victor’s lips muffling his all he was able to do was scream into Victor’s mouth.  
The sensation aroused Victor more than anything he’d felt previously, and he moaned into his lips and started sucking harder as the last bit of sinew holding the British man’s ear on was severed, and it fell to the floor.  
He finally withdrew from him, a string of bloody saliva between their lips, Victor’s face flushed and blood smeared on his cheeks.  
Finn’s lips quivered and he let out a hoarse, wavery scream.  
“I needed that like you can’t possibly imagine,” Victor purred, walking away from him.  
Grem and Acer both approach Finn, grinning wickedly.  
“Looks like we get to finish what we started!” Grem said, holding up a fistful of short metal spikes that resembled ice picks or skewers.  
Acer flicked his Swiss army knife up, revealing a tiny but sharp knife.  
The two looked at each other, then each took one of Finn’s arms into their hands.  
Grem started slowly twisting the spikes into Finn’s left arm, squishing them further and further in until they came out the other side.  
Acer used his knife to start slicing down his arm, peeling the flesh from the British man’s right arm like a chef peeling a cucumber.  
Finn squinted his bloodshot eyes shut, unable to scream anymore and only getting out a harsh wheezing sound.  
“Oh, I didn’t think we’d done all that!” Grem laughed, inserting a second spike.  
Finn thrashed his arms about once he realized without his hands he could slip them out of the shackles, nearly hitting Grem with his own spikes and making Acer drop his knife, leaving a strip of bloody skin hanging down.  
“Damn it! Acer, can I see that?” Grem asked.  
Acer picked up the knife and handed it to Grem, who immediately plunged it into Finn’s shoulder, twisting and jabbing it in further with a squishing and cracking. He pulled out a gory mess of muscle and tendon, then did the same to Finn’s other shoulder.  
Finn was still only able to let out the occasional guttural groan in between his wheezing airy screams, but his arms now fell limp at his sides.  
Acer continued to flay Finn’s right arm and Grem stuck all of his spikes into the left until it looked like a morbid pincushion.  
Their outfits had been stained with blood and gore, bits of flesh sticking to Grem’s spiked boots as they walked away, high-fiving each other with bloody hands that sent splatters up into the air.  
Finn saw spots and his vision grew increasingly blurry, as he struggled to keep his consciousness. His throat burned and the rest of his body was in nothing less than complete agony and shock from the torture he’d been enduring.  
Alexander was the next to approach, wheeling in a low vat of something. He picked up Finn’s feet and opened the container, plunging his feet into the boiling tar. It splattered and made the flesh sizzle and pop. When Alexander withdrew the tar, a red and black sticky mess remained. He dumped rock salt onto the inflamed area and left.  
Finally Ivan and Axlerod came up to Finn, whose head hung down and he slowly struggled to keep it back up, wheezing and gasping for air.  
Ivan and Axlerod smirked at each other.  
“Let’s finish what we’ve started,” Axlerod said. “Ivan? Bring me the hooks.”  
Several large, barbed hooks attached to chains- almost resembling large fishhooks- were dragged out, and Axlerod and Ivan both drove them into the British man’s chest. Each one caused a bright flash to pop across Finn’s vision, until all six had stuck out of his body.  
“And now!” Axlerod ordered, picking up all the chains on one side and yanking with all his might, as Ivan did the same to the other.  
Finally, with a tearing, crunching and splattering, Finn’s ribs gave way, splintering into shards as his body was ripped open, all of his entrails coming out in a bloody mess.  
Finn gasped and with one last guttural moan, he blacked out, his head hanging down and his now-visible heart beating slower.  
Like a pack of wolves, the lemons all rushed Finn, ripping at his internal organs and flinging intestines behind them. Ivan grabbed Finn by his legs and yanked him down from the wall, snapping the shackles and severing the British man’s spinal cord, causing his head to limply hang almost upside down. His heart suddenly stopped pumping and all movement inside ceased as his now dead- or soon to be dead- body was thrown onto the floor, in a pile of his own organs and shreds of fabric.  
The lemons all cheered and whooped, and Victor came forwards, awkwardly trying to remove his pants as he hop-walked. Once he had gotten them off, he sat on Finn’s head, grinding his junk into his face, pressing Finn’s chin further up between his buttocks then repositioning himself to do it again.  
He looked back at the others, sticking his tongue out as he continued to tea-bag Finn’s dead body. “For the lemons!” he cackled, and finally got up, done humiliating Finn’s corpse.  
Axlerod turned back to the others. “Ok… now who wants to get his head off and help me pack it in a box?”  
The lemons all clamored to help, but Axlerod chose Petrov to assist him in dismembering the body, Petrov delivering a final kick to Finn’s head, causing his skull to crack and brains to seep out before cutting through the flesh and bone. The two of them quickly hustled the head into a plastic tarp, then placed it in a box to later be addressed to the CHROME headquarters.  
Now it was time for the cleanup- easier said than done, as Finn’s blood and gore had been strewn about over a large radius.  
“Ok, we’ll all get this into a bin, dispose of it and we’ll have a 20-minute break for you all to return to your living quarters and get cleaned up. After that, meet me at the galley bar- I’ve got plenty of vodka and rum here for everyone!” Axlerod announced.  
The lemons all expressed their joy as they helped clean up Finn’s remains, which Ivan wheeled to the outside railing and threw the entire bin off of the platform, scattering the various bits of him about. As he walked back inside, he could have sworn he saw the dorsal fins of sharks circling as they smelled the blood that Ivan just dropped in the water. He then ran back to the living quarters to shower and get ready to get completely wasted in celebration of the end of Finn McMissile, and resulting end of CHROME. 

A box arrived at CHROME headquarters, with no return address. The box smelled strange, and a few dark stains dotted the bottom of it.  
“Holley!” Siddeley announced upon finding it on their doorstep and running back inside to Holley’s office.  
She looked up from her desk somberly. “Not now, I’m in the middle of trying to find where Finn might be,” she said. “He’s been missing for over a week now! Axlerod’s got him, I just know it. I can feel it in my bones.”  
Siddeley nodded. “I’m worried about him too, but we’ve got a suspicious package, madam. I need you to come investigate it.”  
Holley and Siddeley went back outside to the package. She sprayed it with an explosive-detecting chemical.  
“It doesn’t seem to be a bomb,” she observed after a few moments. “But this package is filthy. Let’s bring it in to the basement and open it there.”  
They brought it in, after Holley had retrieved a pair of gloves to pick it up with and putting on protective goggles.  
Now in the basement, Holley cut open the tape with a box cutter. Siddeley looked over her shoulder.  
When the box was opened, a dark maroonish-brownish liquid was revealed to be strewn all over the inside. The smell made Holley’s heart sink and Siddeley gasp.  
“Is that…?” he asked.  
“Blood stained plastic… oh no, this isn’t going to be good.” Holley held her breath as she unwrapped the plastic. The sound that escaped their mouths was barely human.  
It wasn’t long before Holley was on the floor hyperventilating, Finn’s dried blood on her hands and Siddeley was dry heaving, trying not to puke directly into the box.  
“Those sick bastards…” Holley gasped. “They mailed us his head… and they knew where to mail it, that means…” The color drained from Holley’s face.  
“We’re completely fucked,” Siddeley finished her sentence for her, and immediately was sick all over the floor.  
Siddeley went up the stairs, looked outside the window, and immediately fainted upon seeing several black Yugos and ZAZ-968s circling the building, like metal vultures.

**Author's Note:**

> I had decided to try my hand at darker themes and a lot more gore and violence. I was actually surprised at how well this story turned out, I might have to write more gory stories with lots of blood and torture in them from now on!! I can see why so many other authors do this to their characters XD  
> I also ended up, more or less, using one of my best friend's headcanons for Victor here. I don't really see him as quite like this- I mean he is violent yes, but not exactly in this weird sort of sexual tension way, imo- but I really wrote this for her so I just threw that in there so she would absolutely love it. Sometimes I have a bad habit of ditching my own character headcanons for that of my friends', even if I don't agree with them. I'm slowly getting better about not doing that, though.


End file.
